


be unbroken or be brave again

by thedorkone



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: 4x08, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, F/F, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkone/pseuds/thedorkone
Summary: You try not to think about her. But, you fail.You fail when you’re alone in bed and it’s Christmas Eve and the loneliness chokes you in ways you’re not into.You fail when you take out your laptop and open the video you shouldn’t have of her interrogation and you most definitely fail when you stick a hand down your pants and look at her looking at you through the camera lens.
Relationships: Darlene Alderson/Dominique DiPierro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	be unbroken or be brave again

In this post Dark Army hostile takeover of your life, or whatever the fuck this is, you don’t live. 

You exist.

Not that you were living before, in your shitty one-bedroom apartment with no friends, but still. You were kind of handling your life, you had your family, you had Alexa. You had your job. 

Now everything is theirs (your family, your job, your integrity, your uncompromising, unflinching trust in the system and in your ability to serve the law and the people).

What you still have: sleeping over at your mother’s place, your childhood bedroom a fence for your anxiety, the covers in your bed a smothering hug as noises from the street make you jump like a scared animal (like a coward, like prey).

What you still have: watching from the window as Janice makes small talk with your mom, the unsettling innocence in her shrilly laugh as your mom invites her over for dinner to try and set you up again.

What you still have: texts with directions and orders to clean up after your coercers, on how to shovel more dirt over your name, over your morals, over your dignity.

Now you have nothing.

And it’s all because of _her_.

-

You try not to think about her. But, you fail.

You fail when you’re alone in bed and it’s Christmas Eve and the loneliness chokes you in ways you’re not into.

You fail when you take out your laptop and open the video you shouldn’t have of her interrogation and you most definitely fail when you stick a hand down your pants and look at her looking at you through the camera lens.

You come with a shudder and tear your eyes away. You stare at the ceiling and let the shame of what you’ve done burn away the afterglow. You let her use you, let her slither her way under your skin and crawl inside you with her clever words and her charming smile to chase away that loneliness, now she’s got what she wanted and you’re finished. 

You slam the laptop closed and curse under your breath. It’s all because of her.

-

When she kissed you, you remember this clearly, she tasted like stale beer and lies (the lies she told to get in your bed, the lies you told yourself when you said you didn’t want her to).

-

Later, you sit in your apartment, alone, staring down the barrel of your gun and wondering.

You wonder if they’d leave your family alone if you were brave enough to eat a bullet.  
You wonder what your family would think of it, what they would think of you. You think about your mom, about her coming over and finding you on the kitchen floor, brain splattered over the wall and you can’t bear it. 

There are other ways you could go at it, you could hire someone, you could jump from somewhere, you could swallow something. 

But you won’t, you know this. It would mean letting them win, and you’re way too stubborn to accept that. 

-

Another day, another cover up, another nail hammered in the coffin that your job has become, ready to be lowered down and swallowed by the earth.

This time, you get a text from Janice. 

She wants you to find two troublemakers. You see the picture attached and…

Janice doesn’t know what she’s asking. 

-

When you find her, she’s staying in Angela Moss’ apartment and you ignore the pang of guilt stinging your heart at the thought. 

She looks the same, and looks at you the same, until she sees the gun that you’re pointing at her head. 

You can do this, you just need to call Janice and tell her you have her and that you know how to find Elliot. They don’t need her, they can let her go.

-

They won’t let her go.

You’re sitting in a corner of the bathroom, watching as Darlene’s unconscious form breathes in and out in the bathtub. Blood trickles from a cut on her forehead that you know looks nastier than it actually is. 

You look at the phone as the minutes slip away, they gave you one hour to kill her. 

Your options are:

\- You don’t follow orders, your family gets slaughtered like cattle.  
\- You kill her. Your family is safe, for now. But Darlene’s dead. 

You watch another minute tick by, knowing that you won’t do it. 

She wakes up and makes everything so much harder for you, you look away because you can’t stand the way she looks at you, like she knows you, like she trusts you, like she wants you. 

She’s just using you to get what she wants again, and there’s no need for that, you’ve already made your decision.

“You know it was more than that,” she says and you hate her (you hate that you believe her, you hate that you do know and that makes everything worse).

You don’t want to hear it, you’ve made your decision, the only one that will keep everyone safe, so you drag her to the front door, put your gun in her hand and ask her to end your life (she’s already done it once before, she can do it again).

Chin trembling, big, Bambi eyes crying tears and blood, she looks at you and says “I’m not gonna fucking kill you, Dom.” And you don’t want to ask this of her, but 

“They won’t stop until I’m dead. My life puts everyone I love in danger.”

If you’re gone, your family is safe.

If you’re dead, she is safe, too. 

-

Janice takes the decision away from you both and throws you in a chair, wrists and ankles bound like a hog. You sit there and listen to her rant while dread coils deep in your belly. What if your failsafe doesn’t work, what if that lucky Irish bastard doesn’t hold up his end of the deal, what if you can’t make it out of this, what if, what if, what if.

Janice loves to play with you both like prey, like a cat taunting a mouse, knowing it’s got no way to run, no way out of this alive.

She cuts you up and leaves you open, lays your secrets out for everyone to see (for Darlene to see) and threatens you, threatens your family, threatens Darlene. And she will pay, you have to find a way out of this fuck show first, but she will pay. 

Darlene is not giving up Elliot’s location, as you know she wouldn’t, and you have to think of something before things go too far.

Turns out, being stabbed in the chest with a skinning knife escalates things rather quickly. 

-

You struggle to breathe and look as the Dark Army man forces Darlene away from you. You taste copper on the back of your mouth and Janice holds your life over Darlene’s head. 

Is this why you’re here, you wonder.

Was your life the price to pay in case you failed your mission? 

Your eyes stay on Darlene as she decides whose blood she’d rather have on her hands: yours or her brother’s.

You know her struggle, you understand. So you tell her not to say anything. 

Janice doesn’t like that very much.

-

Your plan works, getting in bed with the Irish devil turned out to be the right idea, and now your family is safe.

The weight lifting off your chest is as real as the piercing pain when you take out the knife and use it to cut the soldier’s tendons. You kill them, you kill Janice.

You’re bleeding out on the floor but your family is safe. You’re chocking on your blood, but Darlene is safe. 

She crawls to you, unties you and holds a fancy blanket against the hole in your chest. She’s crying on you but she’s safe, she’s alive and you tell her to go.

You don’t want her to, you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want to die alone, but all of what you did will amount to nothing if she and Elliot can’t take the Dark Army down, so you tell her to go.

She doesn’t want to, you can see it in her eyes and feel it in the frantic grip of her hands over yours as you apply pressure to the wound. You swallow down your own blood and she leans down. 

When she kisses you this time, she tastes like your blood and her tears and desperation and fear. You sob against her mouth and close your eyes when she leaves you.

-

You wake up to the smell of antiseptic and a blinding light. 

You’re alive. 

The doctor tells you the operation was a success, and that they’ll have to keep you on watch for a couple days. 

You’re alive, but you can’t see your family. You’re alive, but your job is on hold. 

You’re alive and… Darlene walks into your room.

-

“You fucking asshole,” she points a finger at you and glares.

“You absolute moron,” she says, and you can tell she’s holding back tears by how hard she’s clenching her jaw. 

“The nurse didn’t tell you not to yell at patients?” You groan out, trying to sit up on your stupidly uncomfortable hospital bed. 

She closes the space to the bed and jams her finger into the meat of your thigh. “I’m fucking serious, you could have died.” You flinch, batting away at her finger weakly.

“But I didn’t,” you say, simply. 

She looks away and crosses her arms in front of her, conceding. 

“I could have lost you,” she says, and it is but a whisper, her eyes still on the wall far to your right. You take a moment to look at the stubborn wrinkle in her eyebrows, the way her lips dip at the corners into a pout.

“But you didn’t,” you say, softly, and this time she turns towards you. 

She studies your face for a moment, then steps closer and sits on the side of the bed, her thigh brushing your side when she settles down. 

“We did it,” she starts, but you’re still a little drowsy and it’s easier to focus on how she plays with the sleeve of her sweater than on what’s coming out of her mouth.

“We took them down, last night,” she adds, and lays her hand on the bed, her little finger barely brushing yours.

You wonder if you’re past bashful now, if you’re past her ruining your life and making you betray everything you stand for. 

You wonder if taking down the Dark Army settles the score, if it evens out the debt she owes you.

You couldn’t kill her, even when it was the easy way out. You stuck with her, even after getting a knife to the chest and a mouthful of your own blood. 

She’s looking at you and waits for you to say something, but you don’t have anything for her. 

Slowly, you let your fingers cover hers. The last time you held her hand like this it was red and sticky, pressed over the hole between your ribs.  
She looks down at your hands and you know she’s thinking the same. Still, she slips her fingers between yours and meets your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it.

It doesn’t fix things, it won’t take away all the shit you’ve been through since she came into your life, the pain and the grief and the stress.

But you’re alive, your family is safe and as you squeeze her fingers a little tighter, you can feel the loneliness loosen the grip its got around your chest.

And maybe that is good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in love with this lawful good messy lesbian and i needed to know what was going on in her head 
> 
> this show is a masterclass in lesbian angst and i couldn't have asked for better torture porn than the scenes we got, but there's no way Darlene leaves Dom without a lil bloody smooch


End file.
